What Happens in Vegas (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove)

by Taylor Brooks

  “Truth?”

  “Sure. Lay it on me,” Ian answered.

  “I thought he was the one, too.”

  “And now you don’t?”

  “No, I mean, I do. It’s just…Shit.” Darren leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “It’s complicated.”

  Ian walked over to the desk and sat on the corner. “All relationships are complicated, man. Whenever sex and the heart come into play it’s like sticking a bunch of emotions into a blender and hoping for the best.”

  “Yeah, I know that. This is a different kind of complicated though. I think I really fucked things up,” Darren admitted.

  “Define fucked up. What did you do?”

  “I don’t think you wanna know.”

  “Try me.”

  Darren tilted his head back down and eyed his brother. Ian had always accepted his homosexuality since day one. He didn’t even bat an eyelash when he came out. He probably already suspected so wasn’t that surprised. But even with that news, they’d never really gotten into talks about sex.

  Talking about gay sex with a straight man was one thing, but talking about a ménage a trois with a complete stranger in a gay three-way was another thing altogether. He wasn’t sure his brother would want to hear about it.

  “You sure?”

  “Shit, man. I asked didn’t I? Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you did that makes you think you fucked up. It’s not like you cheated on him or anything did you?”

  With a sigh Darren admitted, “Not exactly.”

  “What? What the hell do you mean, not exactly? You either cheated on him or you didn’t. There’s no gray area when it comes to cheating. What the hell did you do?”

  “Shit. Okay, I’ll tell you. But, remember that I warned you,” Darren told him.

  Ian rolled his eyes and nodded. “Fine. All right. Just out with it already.”

  “On our last night in Vegas Ryan and I got shit faced. Not just your fun and rambunctious kind of drunk, I’m talking completely crazy, over-the-top, inhibitions-out-the-window type of drunk. We were just together having fun and the drinks were going down way too easy thanks to this bartender named Michael.”

  “Okay. Gotta say getting drunk doesn’t sound so bad, bro.”

  “That’s not the bad thing. Let me finish,” Darren said, needing to get it out now that he started.

  “Okay, sorry. Go on.”

  “So, we were at this bar. Don’t ask me the name. I wouldn’t be able to tell you even if I wanted to. The only thing I know for sure is that we stayed there for a couple of hours until closing time. And then Michael came back to our room with us. And…well, I guess you can image what happened next.”

  “You and Ryan had a three-way with the bartender? Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” Darren hung his head down and cursed under his breath.

  “So…that’s what happened that has you thinking you fucked up?” Ian asked.

  “Well, yeah. I mean…Ryan and I were in a committed relationship. We may not have talked about long-term plans, but I was in love with him. I am in love with him. But at the end of the day, all it took was some alcohol to make me throw that commitment out the window.”

  “Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that you think you broke your commitment to Ryan by engaging in a three-way with Ryan and another man?”

  “Well, yeah,” Darren replied.

  Ian shook his head. “Geez, man. Why are you always so hard on yourself? Sometimes you are a good person to a fault, bro.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you aren’t the only one who took part in your little Vegas ménage a trois. Ryan was right there with you. So, if by your definition of commitment you were cheating on Ryan, then he, my little brother, was cheating on you, too.”

  “I don’t think of it like that though. I blame myself.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Shit. Too many reasons to count. It was my idea to go to Vegas. It was my idea to hit the casinos and bars that night rather than take in a show, which is what Ryan wanted to do. And I’m fairly certain it was my idea to take Michael back to our hotel. So, regardless of the participants, I seem to be the one who pulled the trigger on that night’s events.”

  “You seriously have to stop being so hard on yourself. You’ve always been like this as far back as I can remember.”

  “Well what am I supposed to think?”

  “You’re supposed to realize that you didn’t hold a gun to anyone’s head. And you’re supposed to realize that not everything that happens in this world is your fault.”

  “If it’s not my fault then why the hell won’t he talk to me?”

  “Who? Ryan? I thought you just saw him last night?” Ian asked.

  “I did. And we have been seeing each other. Not as much as we used to, but we do. Everything is different now though. We sit in silence most of the time. We barely look at one another and we’ve barely touched one another since we got home.”

  “Ahh…so you think that because of what you guys did in Vegas, your relationship is in the crapper.”

  “Yeah. I’m scared.” Darren tried to hide back his tears. “I really do love him.”

  “Stop your sniveling right now and get your shit together.”

  “Geez. Thanks, bro. You sure know how to make a guy feel better,” Darren said while wiping at his moist eyes.

  “What do you want me to say? Sit there and cry your eyes out?”

  “Well, no. But—”

  “But nothing. Instead of moping around here why don’t you talk to him? If you’re still seeing one another on a regular basis then it can’t be that bad. Tell him how you feel. Then if he’s an asshole about it, then you wash your hands of that asshole.”

  “He’s not an asshole,” Darren interrupted.

  “Maybe he’s not. But you’ll never know unless you talk to him about it. For all you know he’s thinking the same things you are? What if he blames himself?”

  “And if he isn’t? If he really does blame me? Then what do I do?” Darren asked, fearing that possibility more than anything.

  Hearing himself say his deepest fears aloud struck a nerve that he had been trying not to pay much attention to. Tears welled up in his eyes as he considered the real possibility that that one night might have truly ruined all they had been building for the past year. Tears welled up in his eyes as he considered having to go on without Ryan in his life.

  “Cut that out! You will not cry, do you hear me? You’re one hell of a catch. You’re a Peterson, for crying out loud. If he can’t get past what you both did, then the son of a bitch doesn’t deserve you!”

  Darren quickly defended the man that he loves. “Don’t call him that! Ever!”

  Ian raised his eyebrows at him. “You sure about that?”

  “Yes, I’m sure!”

  “Then prove me wrong. Go talk to him. Then you can defend him. Until then, all you’re doing is moping around the house complaining that you ruined things when you don’t even know if it’s true.” Ian grinned.

  “Just like that, huh?”

  “That’s right, little brother. It’s time to check that cowardice at the door and fight for what you want.”

  “Fine. I’ll talk to him tonight.”

  “Good, then come and eat something already. Ryan isn’t going to like you if you turn into this skinny rail of a man.”

  “I’ll have you know I had steak last night. With a baked potato even.” Darren smiled.

  “Fine. But one meal a day ain’t gonna cut it. You haven’t been eating breakfast, and I doubt you’ve been eating lunch either. So either start eating, or I’m gonna force-feed you like I did when you were little.”

  “I hardly think forcing fish bait down my throat constitutes force feeding me. Nor did any of the other ways you used to torment me.”

  Ian shrugged and patted Darren’s shoulder. “All for your own good, bro.”

  “Said the spider to the fly.”


  “Hey, if I didn’t torment you, who would?” Ian asked with a devilish smile before walking out of the room. “Now go talk to your man. Geesh.”

  “Wait…didn’t you say you had food?”

  Ian turned back and shook his head. “Yeah. Come on.”

  Darren followed Ian into the kitchen and took a seat across from him at their kitchen table. Ian handed him a plate and a glass of milk.

  “Tuna salad and milk?”

  “What? Were you expecting chocolate chip pancakes with a whipped-cream smiley face?”

  Darren shrugged. “Mom would have done that.”

  “Well Mom was a saint among us. You’re lucky I’m feeding you at all. I’ve got to meet clients in an hour.”

  “Yeah? Big shoot?”

  “Oh yeah. Trekkies who want their engagement photos to look like they came from a galaxy far far away.”

  “Ha! Better you than me. I don’t think I would have the patience for some of the weird requests you get.”

  Ian took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged. “Those weird requests are what help pay the bills. It’s not like Stephen pulls much weight around here.”

  “Yeah, no shit. Just where is our little playboy bachelor brother?”

  Ian rolled his eyes. “Probably working down at the ranch like always. Don’t know why he works so hard at a job that pays him so little.”

  “Because he loves it,” Darren replied.

  “Yeah, I guess. That or he just loves all the country girls he gets to see in their short shorts.”

  Darren let out a chuckle. “Knowing Stephen he probably looks at that as his incentive package.”

  “Probably. So what about you? You going to talk to Ryan or what?” Ian asked after taking a drink of milk.

  “I guess. I mean…I know you’re right and you should, but I keep getting this vibe from him that he doesn’t feel the same way as he used to. I all but asked him that last night, and he didn’t say a thing to reassure me. It was like…I don’t know.” Darren sighed. “It just sucks, man.”

  “I know, bro. But, you’ll never know unless you ask.”

  Darren smiled. “Okay, Mom. I heard the message loud and clear.”

  “Good, cause I gotta get going.” Ian shoved the last of his sandwich in his mouth and downed the rest of his milk before setting his plate by the sink. Before he was about to walk out of the room he turned back toward Darren and said, “I meant what I said earlier. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a good guy. And Ryan or any other man would be damn lucky to have you.”

  Darren smiled. “Thanks, big brother.”

  Ian nodded and walked away. A moment later the sound of the front door closing left the house silent as Darren was left with nothing but the racing thoughts going through his mind. He knew that Ian was right. He did need to talk with Ryan. Whether he wanted to or not, he had to face the proverbial music of what he had set in motion nearly a month ago.

  The only question was…when.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan walked into his restaurant at the chop house after a busy morning of meetings at two of his other restaurants. In spite of his hectic day, so far he still hadn’t been able to get Darren out of his mind. Sitting down for some peace and solitude he hoped to be able to do just that before he completely lost his mind.

  He hadn’t slept a wink last night. After he’d gotten home last night he poured himself a stiff drink and sat out on the back patio, staring up at the stars and watching as the moon’s reflection danced in the water of the pool that he and Darren had helped design together.

  The more he thought, the more he looked back and remembered all of their nights together, the more he didn’t want to let him go. What they did in Vegas might have been a mistake, but they both had wanted it.

  Somehow, although he wasn’t sure how, Ryan was going to have to find a way to get past his guilt and uneasiness and sit down with Darren so they could talk about things. He should have stopped Darren before he walked out of the restaurant last night. His own insecurities were all that stopped him from calling out to him even from across the crowded restaurant.

  He did want Darren. He didn’t need to take time to think about it. He’d wanted Darren from the very first night he’d met him at his Fort Worth Seafood House.

  One of the first things Ryan remembered was how good-looking he was. At nearly six and a half feet tall, he towered over most everyone that was around him. His stark black hair was trimmed neatly and combed back against his gorgeous face.

  His cheekbones were strong, almost warrior like. Even though he was a regional representative for a travel program, Ryan saw him in a much different light. Darren had a look about him that reminded him of gladiators from eras long ago. While he might dress like an ordinary working professional, Ryan knew all too well how extraordinary the man truly was.

  His body was lean, but not skinny. From his shoulders and arms, right down to his abs and thighs, Darren Peterson had the look of perfection. He wasn’t overly muscular. In fact he was quite the opposite. Subtle and toned muscles stretched across his olive-colored skin, creating a canvas that Ryan didn’t even think Michelangelo himself could create.

  Damn but he missed him. He missed his smile, his laugh. He missed his kiss and his tongue. He missed waking up and reaching over to wrap his arm around Darren. He missed it all. Every single moment of comfort Darren provided him seemed like a distant memory and he wanted it back.

  Sitting down in his chair, the red flashing light of his answering machine caught his eye. He pressed the button and listened to the monotonous voice of the machine telling him the call just came in around ten minutes before.

  He grabbed a pen, ready to transcribe any name and number when he was startled by the sound of a voice, which sounded like Darren’s but he knew wasn’t him.

  “Look, man. I don’t know what your issue is, but you’re acting like a jerk,” the familiar voice said.

  Ryan stared into the machine and tried to place the voice. He knew he knew it, but couldn’t remember from where.

  Scanning through the numbers on his phone’s caller ID, Ryan saw the number and then a moment of realization hit him and it all made sense.

  Ian. Darren’s older brother. Shit.

  “Darren told me what happened…in Vegas. And yeah, I know it’s none of my business and I’ve only met you a handful of times, but he’s my brother and he’s all sorts of fucked up over this. So, sorry, but that kind of makes it my business.”

  Ryan hung his head in embarrassment and shame as he listened to Darren’s older brother give him a lecture about their Vegas romp. He hadn’t seen that coming.

  “Look, man…from what I know about you you’re an okay guy. And for the past year you’ve made my little bro really happy. But shit, I’ve never seen him like this. You need to get your head on straight and talk to him. He’s probably too chicken-shit to do it himself. So I’m counting on you to make the first move and unfuck this clusterfuck you two created, because I don’t like seeing him like this. He’s a good guy, Ryan. And I think you are, too. So, what do you say? Give him a call. Make this right.”

  That was all Ian said before ending the call and leaving Ryan with his stunned silence.

  With his hand hovering over the phone, he considered picking it up to make the call to Darren like Ian had suggested. Damn if he had any idea what the hell to say though.

  Suddenly his phone rang and he jolted in his seat. Effectively saved by the bell, or in this case the ring, he answered.

  “Ryan Cook.”

  “Hi, Mr. Cook. Jack Ramsey here. I just wanted to extend my gratitude for giving me your time earlier today. I enjoyed meeting with you and your colleagues and hope to do business with you all in the near future.”

  “Oh, it was no trouble at all. The pleasure was ours. As soon as we come to a decision we’ll get back to you either way.”

  “I appreciate that. Have a good day.”

  “Likewise.” Ryan hung up
the call after saying good-bye and took a moment to unfrazzle his nerves. For a brief and fleeting moment he thought it might have been Darren on the other end.

  He turned on his computer and got up to make himself a cup of coffee. His lack of sleep last night was catching up to him. He needed a boost if he were going to make it through the rest of the day.

  A couple of minutes later he sat back down at his desk and took a large swig of his coffee. He clicked on the icon for his e-mail and began scrolling through the various messages. There were the usual reports from his general managers giving him the sales figures from the previous night.

  He was pleased with the numbers he’d been seeing lately. He was the youngest district manager that Texas Steak and Seafood Restaurants ever employed and they’d taken a big chance on him in this position. Only his track record as a GM at not one, but two of their restaurants had bought him enough credibility to get the position over some other more qualified external applicants.

  Luckily to his relief and satisfaction, his promises of grandeur hadn’t been in vain. Ever since he’d taken over the Northern Texas district he’d managed to increase their sales and train the staff at all five of his restaurants on how to effectively up sell almost any ticket. By that alone they’d seen a steady increase in sales over the past few weeks averaging between fifteen to twenty percent a day.

  Ryan knew if he kept this up and continued to prove he had what it took to run these restaurants he’d be able to effectively dig his heels in the sand with this company and secure his future for the long term.

  While taking another drink of his coffee, he managed to dribble some on his tie. “Damn it.”

  A moment of nostalgia set in and he became sad. For working in a restaurant, Ryan had a nasty habit of spilling food on his ties, shirts, and everything else he could manage. After months of Darren witnessing his eating habits, he nicknamed Ryan the “Messy Marvin of Restaurateurs.”

  Ryan opened his top desk drawer and grabbed a moist towelette from the box Darren had gotten him for just such an occasion.

  His heart ached for the simple way they fit together. The sex was phenomenal with Darren, but it was these things, the little innocuous every day memories that made Ryan realize how perfectly they fit together.